


An Exercise In Red

by takenbynumbers



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020), Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:01:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28338897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takenbynumbers/pseuds/takenbynumbers
Summary: Red is one of the only constants in Tseng's life.
Relationships: Reno/Tseng (Compilation of FFVII)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	An Exercise In Red

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this is more of a series of snippets with only a vague timeline (as evident by the end).

Tseng closes his eyes and even alone in the darkness, there is no silence. Only the high-pitched tinny whine in his ears, encompassing his senses. A reminder of his past, what he’d done to get to where he is. The shells of bullets can be swept away but they remain with him every day that he closes his eyes. A reminder of his past sins – filthy with matted, blood crusted hair, accented with shards of bone.

The concept of death – of his own mortality- has never been of consequence. An inevitably, yes. When one works for Shinra, that feels like a given. Layers of red and black, interlaced with white - a constant visual behind his eyes.

Veld spoke and emphasised on the importance of completing the mission – not for the company, but for the department. His department. The family he never asked for and would die for. And under another president, things would be different. His heart stutters, a minor palpitation and he pays it no mind. The darkness creeps in, and he exhales. Inhales.

*

  
  
Reno’s hair spills over his back, that unnatural bright red contrasting against marred pale skin. Tseng grabs a handful, hips snapping harder into him, and yanks Reno’s head back. His hair is coarser than he would have expected, and he has half a mind to stop fucking him so he can teach him about simple things like _conditioning_.

Instead, he just digs his fingers into Reno’s scalp and fucks him harder, listening to the slap of skin against skin, the litany of babble escaping his _second_. The muscles clench around him and he bows his head, running his free hand over the globe of Reno’s ass before slapping it hard. Reno comes with his back arched and Tseng yanks his hair back until he’s yelling out, “ _Red_!” That’s when he spills himself inside, hips stuttering with every pulse of his cock. 

When Tseng pulls out, he watches as Reno collapses onto his side, breathing hard, blissful silence settling in the room. It’s too quiet and Tseng curls against Reno’s back, pushing two fingers into the mess he’s created in Reno’s stretched hole, pumping them slowly. It makes Reno moan hoarsely and press back against the invasive digits.

“Louder,” Tseng whispers, using his other hand to curl in Reno’s hair once more.

*  
  


The cherry ember of Reno’s cigarette flares as he lights up, the flame illuminating his face briefly. The splatter of dried blood makes Tseng ache, and he takes the cigarette, taking a slow drag before handing it back to Reno.

“Shit. Looks like a fuckin’ massacre. How'd we end up doin' this, anyway?”

“Nostalgia, I suppose. Heidegger’s orders.”

“Fuck that,” Reno mutters, but he leans against Tseng briefly. Tseng jerks his arm back in time before Reno can ash on the arm of his jacket, and Reno _laughs_ , full throated.

“Take me out for a drink afterwards. Your place. Mine. Either way’s fine with me.”

Tseng looks at him, notes the way the cigarette lights up Reno’s face and the shadows dancing across his sharp features. He hates those tattoos – animalistic markings, really – but he adores digging his thumbs into them as he forces his cock down Reno’s throat.

“Only if you actually submit your paperwork on time for last week’s mission.” He doesn't say that he wanted it anyway, the feral grin of Reno slamming his rod into a _nobody's_ face had already gotten him going. Tseng suspects Reno already knows.

  
*

They have a night to themselves before Rufus' inauguration and they’ve already had a couple of beers at Reno's apartment. Rude had left, citing a desire to be _elsewhere_ and neither of them ask him to stay longer. Tseng suspects Reno has arranged it for them to be alone and he can’t bring himself to question it nor care.

“Wanna see something new I installed in the bedroom?”

Tseng eyes him for a moment, eyebrow arched questioningly. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”

Reno just laughs and grabs him by the wrist, pulling him up. “C’mon. You can trust me.”

It’s not a matter of trust for Tseng, but he obliges, following him into the bedroom. It seems perfectly normal – untidy, bed unmade, various weaponry littering every flat surface. Until Reno shoves him onto the bed and Tseng looks up, only to be confronted with his own reflection.

“Like it?”

He hates it. But he doesn’t say anything, just allows Reno to start kissing down his neck, nimbly undoing his tie and buttons in his wake. Even as Reno has two fingers in him, opening him up, Tseng tries to avoid his reflection – he doesn’t want to see how he looks.

Three fingers cause him to whine, arch his back, and his reflection looks alien to him, but he can’t look away. Even as Reno is fucking him hard, he watches as his face starts to darken, hands wrapped around his throat. Mottled red, and Tseng comes as Reno allows him the luxury of _breathing_ , and he feels himself disassociate as Reno hunches over him, chasing his own release. The sensations are there, and he feels the way Reno bites his shoulder, marking him. He spots the reflection of something in the mirror – is that one of Scarlet’s new explosive prototypes?

“ _Tseng_. What the fuck…are you looking at…?” Reno finally notices him looking at the mirror and cranes his neck mid-thrust, following Tseng’s line of sight.

“New weapon. Looks good. Useful,” Tseng murmurs as Reno looks down at him, breathing hard. His face is flushed prettily, and Tseng reaches up, rubbing his thumb over his lips. Reno licks it before nipping playfully, rolling his hips into him with slower motions. It brings him back to himself and he can feel how sore he’s getting. But he arches up, pulling Reno down against him and finally makes eye contact with himself in the mirror. Reno’s hair invades his vision, and he lets out a quiet moan, eyes fluttering shut as Reno picks up the pace.

He’s too out of it by the time Reno comes inside him to complain about the mess. Tseng never lets Reno fuck him without a condom. He hates the greasy feeling slipping out of him, drying in patches against his thighs, but he doesn't get a chance to complain as Reno kisses him fervently.

*  
  


Crimson fabric drapes around him, and he hunches over more, letting it create a barrier between himself and the planet, all its inhabitants. Cool leather brushes against his cheek, and Tseng rests his face against Vincent’s side, almost entirely in his lap. Wisely, Vincent says nothing, the talon of his gauntlet a reassuring weight on his shoulder.

“I feel like I’ll disappear here. Slip away into the void,” Tseng murmurs, as Vincent uses his other hand – gloved and gentle, to tilt his chin up.

“You treat your redemption like it’s achievable in this life. Instruments of death like us do not find such relief.” Vincent’s eyes flash, a glow of garnet through glossy black strands and Tseng is mesmerized.

They talk of the past in hushed tones. Vincent tells him of how his mentor and him came to be, and Tseng regales him of changes within the department in his tenure. He reaches for Vincent when he’s fixing him up, changing a bandage, and Vincent merely bats his hand away, a small smile on his face. He’s far more methodical with Elena, but she’s recovering far better and more quickly than Tseng. And her scars don’t fascinate Vincent quite as much. He asks about each one, revealing another old story of his Turk days in the process, so of course Tseng wants to tell him. And he aches for the rest of his ragtag group – the only family he has left. Elena just smiles sadly, keeping an eye out, watching as Vincent runs a talon through his hair once again.

Sometimes, Tseng wants those sharp tips to dig into his skull. The feeling doesn’t leave, even after they’re back in Edge, reunited with their little family and he sometimes catches a glimpse of Vincent around Reeve. It sends a bolt of jealousy through him. He never asks Reeve about Vincent, but he smells him. Burnt oak and cardamon, mixed with earth and fresh rainfall. And sometimes when he sleeps, all he can see is that red fabric draped over his face.

And sometimes, he sees blood spurting through his suit jacket, staining deeply and coating his fingers sticky-like that never seems to come clean, even when he’s awake.


End file.
